Rainy Days
by MissTinfoilHat
Summary: (HIATUS) Ed is sick. Very sick. His body is violently rejecting his automail, and at the worst possible time in his life too. He has a job he loves, a wedding to plan, a life to start with his (all flesh) brother and the love of his life. And someone else too, that was... well, not at all planned.
1. Chapter 1

**Am I already in the middle of writing like five fics?  
Well yes, yes I am. **

**Did I claim to update the "Family ties" one just about daily?  
Aha. Jep. **

**Did that give me complete writers block?  
Possibly, indeed. **

**Have I started to write another one in stead?  
Affirmative. **

**Am I going to update the others very soon?  
Certainly. **

**Did I seriously just google synonyms for the word yes?  
Absolutley!**

**Am I claiming to own fullmetal alchemist?  
Negative.**

Lawrence Franklin stood and looked out the wall sized window of his small, rustic book shoop in Risembool. The rain was bawling outside, cleancing the grey October streets of all the bright colours the fall had blessed them with up to this point. The elderly gentleman looked at his pocket watch, frowning slitghtly. His employee was late on this sour morning. Right as he looked back up from his watch, he noticed the long green raincoat, biking towards the shop. Before even stopping, the cloaked man was off his bike, running towards the enterance after leaving the bike leaned on a pole outside.  
"G'morning Mr. Franklin." The short man smiled, and dragged his hood down, revealing his long blonde hair that was tied up in a high ponytail.  
"Ah, good morning Edward. God awful weather we've been dealt today."  
Ed shuckled.  
"Tell me about it. Sorry that I'm late."  
He got out of his dripping coat, leaving for the room behind the register to hang it up.  
"Don't worry about that. But you _know_ I get worried about you."  
"Don't do that. T's just the weather, you know."  
Ed returned, seeing the old man looking conserned at him.  
So Ed let out another shuckle. "Don't worry, I'm fine."  
"M-hm." The old man mumbled, as Ed realized he was subcondciously rubbing his right shoulder, massaging one of his two aching automailports, and immerdiatly stopped, smiling sheepishly.  
"Tsk, this? It's nothing, t's just... it made me move kinda slow on my way to work, that's all."  
But the droplets that was slowly revealing to be sweat, and not rain, that trickled down his forhead, told Mr. Franklin otherwise.  
"Are you hurting?" He asked, in his no-nonsense demeanor that he turned on, whenever refering to Edward's not-always-so-good health. It was a known fact that Edward Elric wouldn't admit to pain until he collapsed.  
Edward sighed. He knew he couldn't fool the old man, so why he would even try anymore was just stupid.  
"I...do... have a... bit of an ache." He finally admitted, just as a jolt of pain struck both of his ports at the same time, resulting in his legs giving out from under him.  
"Edward!" The elder exclaimed, but stopped as Ed's hand pointed up to the roof, panting for a while and finally being able to speak.  
"T-thunder." he whispered in a raspy voice, while clutching to his chest.  
Quite accuratly, a couple of seconds later the roaring thunder shook the enitre store. Ed had to stay down on his hands and knees through it, while Lawrence looked to the rumbeling roof, adjusting his spetacles.  
"Astonishing! You could be a meterologist." he said enthusiastically to the boy.  
Ed sneered, and slowly got back to his feet.  
**(I wanted so badly to insert a mean girls joke here, like "Ed toutched his shoulder and confirmed that it was 68 degrees, and a 30% chance that it was already raining"). **  
Lawrence laughed his sharp and nasal old-man laugh, and lended Edward a hand as he got back up.  
"But in all honesty, how are you feeling?"  
"Better."

Lawrence accepted Edward's reassurance of feeling better for about five minutes. In the middle of helping a costumer, Ed suddenly grabbed his shoulder again, and at the same time, covered his mouth with the rest of his arm. He dissapeared behind the register, a door heard slamming shut shortly after. Lawrance excused himself, smiling at the baffled lady, and followed. Coughing and ratching was heard from inside their small employee-only bathroom. He knocked at the door.  
"Edward. Open up please."  
The sound of Ed vomiting clearly sounded through the door.  
"I'm going to call you a cab. You need to go home."  
"No! Ugh..."  
Lawrence cringed at the sickening sound.  
"You cannot work like this."  
The doorlock made a clicking noise, as the toilet flushed, and Lawrence let himself in. Edward was still dry heaving and leaning over the toilet bowl.  
"I can't... go home right now."  
"And why is that? You sure as hell can't stay here."  
Lawrence tore off some thick paper from a dispencer, and reached it to Ed who wiped his mouth.  
"I..." Ed burped. "Mh, sorry." A couple of more breaths. "I can't go home right now. Winry is..." His eyes went wide, and he grabbed onto the toilet and hurled violently, almost missing the bowl. Lawrence drew back. The bell on the register ringed furiously, and he retreated to the front. The elderly woman from before looked very unhappy.  
"Well, that was about time!" She snarled, and poked the stack of books she had left on the counter.  
"I'm sorry about that ma'am." Vicious convultions was heared in the background as Lawrance realized that he hadn't closed the door, and added flatly "We're having a bit of an emergency."

After closing the sale, Lawrence turned a sign on the door that said closed, giving him some time to take care of his sick employee. Returning to the bathroom, Ed had crawled away from the toilet, resting his head against the wall.  
"Did you get it all up?" He asked, and crossed his arms and leaned on the door frame.  
"I hope so." Ed held his head up with his flesh hand, eyes half lidded.  
"Now, explain to me why you will not go back home."  
Ed's eyes went wide, and he looked in horror at his boss.  
"Winry is... she is... she is..."

The last part came out as a whisper. "p..._pregnant_."


	2. Chapter 2

The old man scowled at the boy, before bursting out in pure joy.  
"Well that's just wonderful! Congratulations my boy! I would hug you, but you smell like puke."

Edward was shaking lightly, and did not look reasured by his boss' delightment at all. In stead he leaned his head back, inhaling deeply to ease some of the returning nausea.

"Are you not happy about this?" Lawrence asked from the lack of respons.

"Of course I am!" Ed snapped, realizing the sudden outburst was a mistake and sank further down on the tiled floor.

"Well boy, you need to start talking. I'm getting tired of having to make assumptions here. What does this have to do with you not wanting to go home and get well?"

"What do you mean 'what does this have to do' with it? There's a..." Ed started to gesticulate a large half circle on his stomache. "a...a... _small me_ growing inside of her! That's...that's..."

Lawrence managed to keep himself from correcting the adjective to _smaller_.

"Terrifying?" he suggested in stead.

"Utterly disturbing!" Ed exclaimed with a panic that Lawrence had never seen in him before. He could not claim that it was not amusing.

"And I take it you've just reacently learned about this."

"About three hours ago." Ed clutched to his head.

"I see." Lawrence scratched his head, not really "seeing" it at all.

"But, I guess that's not really the issue." Ed said while shaking his head, looking sincerly to his elders eyes.

"I mean, just look at me," he chuckled. "I'm a mess. I don't want to stress her out. It's so early still, y'know?"

The port on his left leg throbbed prominently as he tried to stand back up, and once again Lawrence read his mind and gave him a helping hand. Ed massaged his thigh while leaning over, not being ready to stretch out his body jet. The old man stroked his young friend on his back.

"I'm sure it will be fine, Edward. You're the one who is stressed out. Trust me, as a man who've raised seven children. You keeping secrets like this, _that's_ what's going to stress her out."

Edward smiled half heartedly, and slowly stretched his back.

"Fine, old man. I'll call a cab..."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO OLD THAT HIS FAMILY TREE STARTS WITH HIM, YOU GNOME?"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT THAT HE HAS TO CUT OFF THE LEGS OF HIS UNDERWEAR, GRANPA?"

-  
Winry Rockbell, soon to be Elric, lifted her fiancès automail aside. She had just finsished detatching it to ease the pain from her future husbands limbs, as it had been a particularly bad day for him. _For what having prostetic limbs was considered that is_, she hoped.

It was like that some days, if it was raining or snowing. If the temperature got to high too. She had her suspicions that same morning when looking outside their bedroom window at the nearly black clouds. Edward was still sleeping, tossing and turning more than usual.

But, _there had been something else on her mind too._

He had gone through a range of emotions when she told him. It started off as disbelief, then he was extatic, after that he had been frantic, before it all unravled into something that could only be described as doomsday preperations.

It had amused her to see Ed so out of his element, so her hunch of him having pains had been forgotten. That was, until Mr. Franklin had called her an hour ago to congratulate, and tell her that Ed was feverish, and had been throwing up in the store's bathroom for the last twenty minutes.

Now he layed in bed, two limbs short with rags soaked in cold water covering his ports and forhead to bring his fever down, aswell as the swelling of his stumps. Winry sat on his bedside, caressing his cheek carefully.

"Edward, what am I going to do with you?" she smiled at him.

Ed sighed.

"I don't know." he sulked.

Winry laughed at his childlike antics, but quickly went back to a more stern tone.

"You need to tell me if you are in pain. I can't stand to see you in that state. The cab driver just about carried you inside."

Ed frowned when being reminded of that humiliating event.

"If I can stop _that_ from happening again, I'll be better."

Winry let Edward sleep for the next couple of hours, knocked out by the strong painkillers that was prescribed to him for exactly these kind of days. Obviously Winry had to threaten Ed with a wrench to make him take them, and now he was finally resting. She took advantage of the time to go over to granny Pinako's house, and her automail workshop. She left a short note on their bed stand, just in case Ed would wake up.

She couldn't consentrate. For the last couple of weeks she had secretly been working on a brand new design for her future husband. After he lost his ability to do alchemy, it seemed like his body was reacting badly to the automail. She didn't want to tell Ed, but she was worried that his body was about to reject it completely. Therefore, she had been experimenting whenever she had the spare time to make something lighter and more manageable for him.

The fact that she had never experienced any other costumer having such severe reactions to the weater, was also something she had avioded to share with him. He felt weak enough as it was ever since he had retired from the military. No need to rub it in his face that he got a high fever whenever it rained heavily. He already suffered. She sighed.

'_My poor hubby.'_

Al returned to his brother and future sister in law's house in the afternoon. He loved his new job at the bakery. Not only was he surrounded by the finest pastries in town, but he could actually taste them too. After a year in Xing, he had returned home. Alchemy and alkahestry had lost some of it's exitement now that his older brother wasn't able to prefom it anymore, and he himself had gotten his body back. There just didn't seem to be a point in staying there anymore.

'_Well, there was Mei Chang_.'

Returning to Risembool only a few months ago, he had some time to think about what he really wanted to do. He couldn't stop thinking about cake. So, even though he tried to take his time, it was actually been a pretty easy decision.

He sat down in the coutch, resting his weary legs, and wondering if he should go upstairs and take a nap before they started to prepare dinner. Or maybe just close his eyes right where he sat. The only bad thing about working in a bakery, was that he often had to be at work at five in the morning, to make sure there was newly baked bread ready for the early costumers. He yawned heavily, and stretched his arms out, and went upstairs.

Heavy snoring was heard from Winry and Ed's bedroom. That made Al startle.

_'Is that Winry_?' he thought in horror, as he approched the cutting noise.

'_No wonder Ed is always tired, she's as bad as him!"_

He peeked through the open door as he past on the way to his own temporary bedroom. He saw his brother sleeping, and left out a relieved sigh by the revelation that it was his brother who was guilty of the deafening snores. The relief only lastet for a bit, as he noticed his brother's detached automail, and the cloth on his brother's forhead.

Al entered the bedroom and sat down on the bed, lifting the cloth of his brother's head to re-soak it. The action made Ed move his head, and slowly open his golden eyes, hazed from fever. Al snickered as he returned the cloth.

"Just like old days, huh?"

Ed smiled in respons.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better. Winry made me take something."

"You see? Medicine _does_ help."

Ed made a face at his younger brother, and reached for the soaked cloth on his head, and flung it at him, hitting him in the face. Al quickly got up and wiped the water from his eyes with a pout.

"Yeah, just like the old days."

* * *

**I'll upload another chapter for this sometime during next week! I kinda know what I want to write about, but I need to figure out how to get there. So stay tuned, and stay awesome!**


	3. Chapter 3

_It's time._

_Winry is lying on their shared bed, panting, crying, _ _**screaming** __. He can't stand to see her in such agony, and there's nothing he can do to relieve her from it. If it was possible, he'd switch places with her in an instant. It makes him feel helpless, that at the most important moment of their life, there is nothing he can do to protect his Winry. The only thing he can do is to hold her hand for dear life._

_"You're doing great, Win. Just keep breathing, just keep breathing. You... you..."_

_She whispers. "Ed..."_

_Something is wrong. Something is terribly, terribly wrong. The bed is covered in blood._

_Nonononono..._

_"Winry?" Her screaming sounds louder and her body starts trembling out of control._

_"What is happening?" Ed stands up, backing up slowly until he hits the wall. Winry shoots up, arching her back in immense pain. The door beside Ed slams open and the doctor rushes in, kneeling in front of her._

_"It's time!" he exclaims, removing the blood-soaked bedcover to start the delivery._

_"But... But, is there supposed to be this much blood?" Ed hears his voice breaking. He remembered there being blood when they had to deliver that baby in Rush Valley, but not anything near this amount._

_"He's coming!" the doctor laughs manically, as Winry let out a heart-wrenching screech._

_There's just so much blood..._

_The doctor gathers the bundle in his arms. Ed feels faint. As he's about to lose his footing, he hears crying. The baby... So much blood._

_"Well, what did you expect, pipsqueak?"_

_That voice._

_"Envy..."_

_The green haired _humunculus_ turns around, holding his son's mangled body in his claws. Ed can only watch in horror at the sight of his newborn son. Missing his right arm, and his left leg... and there's just so so much blood._

_"He is your offspring, after all."_

* * *

"Edward!"

Ed jolted awake mid-scream. Right away the room around him start to spin, and he felt the bile taste of stomach acid in his mouth. Two gentle hands slowly eased him back down.

"You were having a nightmare." It was Al. A sigh of relief escaped Ed's mouth, before jolting back up and grabbing the bowl of hot water, spilling its content all over the bed and floor. Al brought the wet rag previously resting on his Ed's head to his brother's neck, as he dry-heaved into the bowl.

Luckily, there wasn't much to throw up anymore. Mostly fluids and the bile he had tasted as he woke up. Al took the bowl away from his brother's grasp, putting it aside to clean it up later. Ed's breaths were fast and shallow, and tracks of sweat ran down his face.

"Please try and relax." Wiping the sweat from his brother's forehead, Al looked concerned. Ed hated that look and held his breath to get it under control.

"Thanks, Al."

"You're burning up brother. Do you want me to get Winry? You were calling for her in your sleep." Ed hoped he hadn't revealed their surprise, but figured Al would not be acting this calmly if he did. His brother loved babies, and would probably already be fetching yarn and knitting needles. Knitting was one of the more surprising hobbies his brother had taken up after getting his body back.

"No, there's no need to bother her while she's working. I just need some sleep." Ed reassured his brother, fully knowing he was lying. He would like nothing more then Winry to lay beside him in their bed, stroking his hair back in silent comfort while he pretended to be asleep, savoring every moment.

But, _that dream_. That was way more horrifying than his usual fever-dreams. Something he definitely could not share with Winry. He had decided to be more open with her like Mr. Franklin had advised him. But, there was no way he could tell her about the distorted way his brain had twisted their good news. Something like that would crush her.

* * *

Al stayed with his brother until he fell back into a fitful sleep. Sometimes he liked to watch Edward sleep because it would remind him of all their adventures, all those years ago while in the military. All the different hotel rooms they had shared, the train rides and their small dorm-room. He would be reading, while his brother slept. Lying down, sitting up and sometimes even standing. Edward could fall asleep in the strangest positions.

Something that had never changed, were the nightmares. They had been recurring ever since they had tried the human transmutation. The day the two Elric brothers lost their bodies. Before that, Al had been much more prone to night terrors then Ed. Or, maybe Ed was just being strong for his little brother. Al would never ask him about that. He knew his older brother had a lot of pride, and him being so sickly ever since he lost his alchemy to The Truth, his confidence had taken a major bump. Building their house from scratch had helped a lot. That made him feel useful again, but his health had gotten worse for the last couple of months. Phantom pains, fever and severe weather sensitivity like today. Al had a feeling that something was not right.

* * *

"Winry?"

The blonde girl startled and turned to see who was calling her. She tended to block out her surroundings while in the shop. The craftsmanship and intricate design of the metal prosthetics where quite consuming, and this shop was her biggest pride and joy. _Well, for now_.

Alphonse looked shy, standing at the door. He had knocked, several times, but no one had answered. Hearing the clanks and banging on the other side, he had shamefully let himself in. "I'm sorry Winry. You didn't hear me knocking."

She let out a small laugh, looking at the oversized kid. "It's all right, Al. What's up?"

Al came further into the room, stroking his hands on an automail leg that was placed on a display rack. "It's Edward. He's really sick."

Winry's smile slowly faded and looked down at her oil-stained shoes. "Yes, I know. He had a really bad day today," she answered silently.

"It didn't use to be this bad. I'm scared that something might be wrong with him." He didn't dear to say 'with his automail', all though it seemed like all of his problems originated from that. Winry nodded almost unnoticeable. She knew.

"I worry too, Al." she finally admitted. Alphonse scratched his temple. It was not what he wanted to hear.

"I think it might be an infection. His body has been resisting the automail ever since... you know." Al nodded. _Ever since he lost his alchemy_.

"I think it's because he was so young when we installed his automail. The alchemy made him stronger than most eleven-year-olds. Now that it's lost, I don't think his body can take anymore. I don't think his hasty recovery was good for him either, and all the strain on his limbs while in the military. His body is tired."

Al needed to sit down. A chair was placed a couple of feet from Winry's workbench, and he crouched down on it, his palms covering his face. "You've thought about this for quite a while, haven't you?" he asked.

She sighed, wiping her hands on her overalls. "Yes, but I haven't discussed it with Edward. He knows, of course, he does, but it's hard to talk about."

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, before Al got back up. "I should probably get back to the house to check on Ed and start dinner."

Before he could leave the room, Winry spoke. "I tell you what. I'll ask Granny to take a look at him when she gets back home. It won't hurt to get a second opinion. Besides, if it really is getting infected, we need to get the treatment started right away."

With that lingering in his mind, Al retreated to the house across the graveled path from Rockbell Automail and Prosthetics. Still worried, but with a slight feeling of relief after getting it off his chest. Also, the word 'treatment' sounded promising, even if he had no idea what it was.

* * *

**It's a short chapter, but at least I finally have some sense of direction of what I want this story to be. Thank you to MysteryWriter177 ( ) for her input while I was stuck!**

**Thank you for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

Pinako examined the irritated and swollen skin around Ed's automail ports. Poking and probing, Ed let out a sneer every time her cold hands touched his sore stumps. In the end, there wasn't much she could do except give him some more painkillers and apply some soothing salve onto the scarred skin.

"There is no doubt. I'm afraid the shrimp's body is rejecting the automail." Pinako stated when she had guided her granddaughter from the bedroom and closed the door. "He has a severe infection, and we should probably have operated the ports off him long before it got this bad."

Winry sighed heavily.

"Is there any way he could keep them? It's... kind of a bad time."

Pinako looked at Winry with a sly smile.

"Don't think I haven't noticed that the two of you are trying to start a family."

Winry blushed, turning her cheeks brightly pink.

"But, you should probably put that off for a couple of months. He's going to need a long time to recover after the surgery," Pinako added, putting her pipe to her mouth.

"Heeeh," Winry stiffened and laughed apprehensively.

"I'm not sure... that's gonna happen," she admitted, with a nervous smile.

Pinako looked at her. And kept looking. For several seconds that felt like minutes, hours, days, centuries.

"Winry..?" she asked, dumbfounded. There was no reason for her to finish the question.

Winry placed her index finger to her lips. "Alphonse doesn't know yet. Please don't freak out!"

Pinako kept on blinking, forgetting about her pipe and let it burn out. She turned on her heel, and marched off to Alphonse's bedroom, waving her hand as to signal Winry to follow.

When they entered the bedroom, making sure it was empty, Pinako closed the door behind them.

"I just found out myself, and told Ed this morning," Winry said almost apologetically.

The older woman just shook her head and embraced her granddaughter tightly.

* * *

The next morning it had finally stopped raining, all though the sky was still gray. Winry was the first one to wake up as usual (unless Alphonse was opening the bakery). She had prepared some coffee but realized that she wasn't even sure if she could drink it while pregnant.

She made herself a cup of hot chocolate instead and brought it with her as she let Den out for his 'morning duties'.

Blowing on the hot beverage, she heard the first droplets of the day tap on the roof tiles. A sigh left her lips, realizing that this was going to be yet another painful day for Ed. She had to figure out how she was going to tell Edward that they would probably need to remove the automail. He already knew it was infected and probably had known for a long time, but she was sure he didn't expect this.

The anger blushed her cheeks when she thought about it. She had seen the irritated and swollen skin around the ports for the last couple of months, but she hadn't thought about how long it actually had lasted. He had those types of problems occasionally ever since he got the automail, but usually, it would disappear if he rested for a couple of days. Maybe she had been in denial, while Ed apparently thought that as long as he avoided the subject, it wasn't real.

A strange noise came from inside. Like shaky metal limbs trying to fumble its way down the stairs.

Winry slammed the door open with a furious look on her face, startling her limping fiancè as he clutched to the railings to keep his balance.

"What do you think you're doing?" Winry yelled and stomped up the stairs towards him. Ed looked down at her in confusion, not letting go on the only thing stopping him from tumbling face first down the steps.

"I'm going to work," he said slowly.

"Oh no, you are not! And why the hell have you reattached your automail?"

"Because I need it for work," Ed explained, dumbfounded.

Winry hooked her arm around Eds, dragging him back up the few steps and back to the bedroom.

A few minutes later, the limbs once again laid on the floor beneath the bed, and Ed was only half conscious after the strain that the attachment and shortly followed detaching had on his body. The racket had woken up Alphonse who appeared in the doorway to see what was going on.

"Your brother is being stupid," Winry stated, crossing her arms.

"What else is new?" Alphonse chuckled, which earned him an angry scowl from his brother.

"How were you able to attach it on your own anyway?" she asked, cheeks still red from anger.

Ed shrugged, mumbling "Just did."

"Mr. Franklin isn't going to expect you to come in after yesterday anyway. You need to be resting while we try and treat the infection... to the extent that we can." she added silently. It felt like her body deflated at the revelation.

"What?" Ed's eyes shut open from their half-lidded state, and he sat up way too quickly, making the room spin around him. Al also reacted to her sudden confession, looking upset and taking a step into the room.

"Careful," Winry consoled, leaning two pillows at the headboard of the bed, slowly helping Edward to rest against them.

"What did you mean by that?" Ed's voice was cross and slightly raised. Winry lowered her had, and rested her hand on top of Edward's only flesh one.

"After Granny examined you yesterday," she started to say with a weak voice. She raised her head to look into Edwards' eyes, feeling the threatening warmth of tears wanting to escape her from her own. He looked like he was going to cry too, but she knew his golden eyes were probably just glossy from the fever.

She gathered herself and cleared her throat, gaining some control of her voice.

"After granny examined you yesterday, she told me that your body is rejecting the automail. It's one of the worst infections she's ever seen. How you've been able to stay on your feet at all is... a medical mystery."

"What does that mean?" Ed and Al asked simultaneously, not even seeming to register it.

Winry hesitated, scattering her brain after some kind of alternative to what she knew would be inevitable.

"Winry, please. Just say it," Ed said pleadingly.

"The only thing we can do is to remove it completely."

A shocked gasp escaped Al's lips as his hand covered his mouth. Winry looked intently for Edward's reaction. But there was none.

"Ed?" she asked carefully.

"Both of them?" he finally asked hoarsly, looking at his empty shoulder port. She nodded, whispering an apology.

"Well, if that's what needs to be done..."

"Brother..." Al started to say. His voice was full of compassion.

"No, Alphonse. Don't even think it." Ed already knew what his brother was considering.

"You can't decide that for me," Al argued, gaining a confused look from Winry.

"What are you two talking about?"

The brothers seemed to have started a staring contest, both of them scowling intensively at each other. Al apperenly lost (but to be fair, Ed was used to having these staring competitions with a suit of armor that didn't need to blink).

"Brother, I'm going to get your arm and leg back."

Winry looked at him in surprise. Ed frowned deeply.

"No, you're not. _This is your home_, and this is our life. You are finally free to do all the things you wrote down in your journal. Also, If I can't use my automail anymore, we need you here."

"But, it's not fair! You got me my body back-"

"Which _I_ lost in the first place! It was _my_ responsibility to get it back. This is not yours. Life happens, and now we have to deal with it."

Al still didn't look convinced. Winry got up from where she was seated on the side of the bed and walked over to where Al was standing in the middle of the room and touched his shoulder.

"We're going to need all the help we can get, once the baby comes..."

At first, Al rolled his eyes and was about to continue to argue his case, but then, her words finally struck him.

"Wha- what?" his eyes widened and hazel pupils grew small as they peered down from Winry's sincere face to her stomach.

"Are you... you..." he stuttered.

Winry smiled and nodded.

"Yes, we're having a baby."

"A baby! You're having a baby!" he threw his arms in the air. "Brother! You're having a baby!"

"Winry is the one_ having_ the baby," Ed smirked.

"There's a baby in there?" Al slapped his hands on each side of his face and kneeled down to face Winry's stomach, making inaudible sounds with a soft voice to it.

"Where else?" Ed still smirked.

All though he was feeling angry and scared, sad even, for his own situation, he knew he had to deal with it the way it had to be dealt with.

For Winry, for Al, _for the baby._

* * *

**Thank you for reading! I've been a bit stuck on this story for a while now, so it felt good to actually produce a chapter that I was finally satisfied with. Some health issues have also been making updating a bit more difficult, but hopefully I'll feel up to writing more and gather some new inspiration soon!**


	5. Chapter 5

Winry left out a quiet sigh and wiped some sweat off her forehead as she placed two paper bags onto the kitchen counter, starting to put away the groceries into the refrigerator and their designated cupboards.

Still, even with her small baby bump growing steadily for the last couple of weeks, she found herself startled every time she bumped it into things, like now, while stretching to her toes to reach the top shelf of their pantry.

"Win? Is that you?" she heard her fiancè's voice call from the other room. She usually used the entrance at the kitchen after doing grocery shopping, as it was closer to the path she usually walked downtown. But mainly at the moment, she didn't want Ed to catch her in straining herself by carrying their groceries.

"Yes," she replied, straining her voice to make it sound overly cheery and innocent.

"Where...urk, where you?" he asked as he, with great difficulty, hobbled into the room with a crutch, now two limbs short. Any trace of automail- completely removed.

Winry gulped at being caught, as Edward stopped in the doorway, scowling at the grocery bags. His pant leg was chopped off and tied a little over where his knee should have been, while the sleeve of his shirt swung close to his side along with his movements.

"Winry! I told you, Al can take care of the shopping! You shouldn't carry all that by yourself!" he growled, arching his brows into an annoyed, but mostly concerned, glare.

Winry put her hand to her side and pointed back at him. "And _you_ are supposed to be off your feet for another week!"

Ed straightened his back and looked at her with wide eyes, his pupils small and with a stiff look on his face at being called out. "Err, I... Jesus Christ, Win. I can't spend another day in bed or on the coach. I'm so bored Winry. I can't tell you how utterly sincerely bored I am!" he exclaimed, crumbling into himself, letting out a small involuntary whine.

"Well, that makes two of us," she stated angrily. "I'm three months pregnant Ed, _not _handicappe- " she cut herself off with a shocked look in her eyes as she raised her hands in front of her mouth in disbelief at the words that she had been about to shout.

Ed seemed startled himself.

_'Oh, God, no,_' Winry thought, frozen in her position. "Ed... I didn't mean-"

"No," he just shrugged. "No, you're right. You're not handicapped," what looked like a pained smile appeared on his lips, but Winry knew better than that. This was Edward, _being hurt_. Hurt by her stupid, badly thought through words.

"I just... I just worry about you. That's all," he said and turned around to limp out of the kitchen. Winry was still unable to move, until, only a couple of seconds later, she heard a small tumble, followed by a loud crash like something was being thrown across the room and Edward's voice growling loudly, "FUCK!"

She quickly regained control of her body and ran towards the sound.

* * *

_3 weeks earlier_

Edward was getting prepped for surgery. He had taken a decontamination shower and had received some light sedatives and pain killers. That was all they could give him, and even if it had been reluctant, he agreed to take them. He had been feverish and bedridden for a week, and he couldn't remember ever being in such an amount of pain from his automail, except when it got attached.

_Now, it was getting detached_.

He laid limply on the surgical table, having been given an oxygen mask to be on the safe side, because of the infection in his body.

This, he _had been_ reluctant to. It felt too hospital-ish.

"Are you ready, Ed?" Pianko asked, checking over her tray of surgical tools, making sure everything was in order. Winry was also present for assistance. Al had tried to persuade them to let him be in there too but was refused.

Instead, he sat restlessly right outside, having Den to hold him company.

"Fuck no," Ed mumbled sleepily through the oxygen mask.

* * *

The first thing that needed to be done, was the removal of the protective platings that, unfortunately, was screwed into his collarbone and femur.

Edward only winched as they started the intricate procedure, hearing the bones inside his body quake as the screws were removed.

The removal of the platings was the easy part. What was left- was the work on the insides of his body. The wires connecting the nervous system, and the steel that was connected directly to his skeleton.

Alphonse startled as he heard a muffled and reluctant cry from his older brother through the door. He recognized those sounds and knew that they had started the most torturous part of the operation. He got up from his chair, and carefully opened the door and peeked inside.

What met him, was Pinako and Winry's backsides, and a bloody form on the surgical table.

The creaking of the door had alerted them of his presence, as the voice of his brother yelled at him to "get the fuck out" and Winry's wrench was hurled across the room, aiming for Al's head.

Al quickly closed the door shut, bearly avoiding the violent attack. He felt queasy, regretting that he had taken the day off work to be there for the surgery, only to be met by all that blood.

_Jeeze, Al was not at all good with blood. _Even Den had gone into hiding, clearly completely understanding of what was going down in the room right beside them. Unlike Al, he had been smart enough to avoid being caught in the crossfire.

* * *

The next day, the surgery was complete. They had worked coherently for 18 hours and finally moved Edward from the table to one of the recovery rooms.

The operation had gone less-than-smoothly because of the severity of the infection of Ed's stumps. Pinako had made the decision that they needed to remove even more of his leg-stump, as the threat of gangrene was very much a possibility.

And Ed, _had to be_ _awake during all of it._

Winry was still in a state of shock after what she had witnessed her Ed going through. Edward had obviously taken it with the absolute bare minimum of reaction that could have been expected. She had seen it done before, even on Ed during his first automail surgery. They had to remove what little was left of his eleven-year-old shoulder back then. This was pretty much standard procedure, so she knew he could take it.

Still, his stumps were just _so infected_. It must have hurt so, so much.

His temperature had shot through the roof at some point in the midst of it, and he was bearly coherent. Rambling about every single thing he was regretting through his eventfull-beyond-his-years life.

She had honestly been worried that they were going to lose him. It wouldn't be the first time they lost someone during automail surgery. _But this was Ed._

She sat by his bedside, bearly being able to hold her eyes open. Al was there too. Even Den had curled up in the foot end of Edwards bed. She had let him, even if she probably shouldn't, considering all the rules about cleanliness and a sterile environment. She just couldn't make herself care. It was _their_ freaking dog anyway. She had justified it with unofficially promoting Den to a therapy dog.

Granny had gone to bed (she had always been a smart woman).

Winry, on the other hand, was determined to be there when Ed woke up. That didn't happen though.

Edward woke up eight hours later. She was fast asleep in her chair, launched over the bed. Alphonse was the only one awake, and he made sure that Edward got everything from painkillers, to cold cloths and food, and made sure he was as comfortable as he possibly could in spite of the circumstances.

Edward wasn't at all, though. But he wasn't going to complain. His brother was by his side, his dog was at his feet and his pregnant girlfriend was asleep, looking more peaceful than he'd seen her in the last week.

He wished he was able to relax, so bad. The pain was barely bearable, but that was not what he truly cared about as he laid there. Feverish, nauseated, tired, _limbless_.

How was he going to provide for his growing family like this? Not even being able to walk, or do anything that needed two hands? He couldn't let his pregnant girlfriend work herself to exhaustion like this, to make sure they could provide for the baby. He was sure Alphonse and Pinako would be happy to help, but that was beside the point.

_And he hurt so much._ There was no time for this! _Oh God_, he couldn't be bed-written for another day, much less four weeks!

* * *

Winry hurried into the living room and continued her way out into the hallway. Ed was still trying to pick himself off the floor. His crutch had been hurled down the narrow hall leading past the stairs, towards one of their two bathrooms, probably in anger and frustration, she assumed.

"Ed... are you okay?" she kneeled down to try and help him up.

"Don't touch me!" he snarled back. He proceeded by closing his eyes and hung his head low. Regretting that he had snapped at Winry. She retracted her hands hesitantly and looked to him with worried eyes.

That, there, was the look that Edward did not want. There was so much _pity_ in it. The same pity he always got whenever people realized that he was a double amputee. Especially if they found out that he had only been 11 years old when it happened.

Problem was, that look made him feel_ so_ utterly _useless_. It made him physically ill. He knew... (he did!) He _knew,_ that he was completely _capable_. He could do _anything_ that other people who had all their limbs could do.

Well, maybe except for a few trivial things like sunbathing or playing in the snow for too long. That had never been an issue.

He had been independent all of his life. He was independent as a kid. Before his father left, before his mother died and before... _that night_. And then, he guessed there was a little while where he was a bit dependant on the people around him, but not for long. _No_. He wouldn't let that happen. And then, he didn't. But now...

_He had lost his fucking balance, _only trying to get from one room to another.

Also...

How in the_ hell_ could he be the _father_ their _child needed,_ if he couldn't even stay_ on his fucking feet_\- **goddammit!**\- foot!

"Ed..." Winry's voice sung sadly. He still hadn't been able to face her. His scars from the surgery hurt and he was humiliated.

"Ed, please. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that."

"I know," he answered hoarsely. _Of course, he knew_. It wasn't really even a word he had felt triggered by since he was a teenager. It was just that- _a word_, that he knew didn't mean anything except the obvious; that he was missing a leg and an arm.

"Please, let me help you up. You're still healing from the surgery and sickness," she pleaded. Ed gave a faint nod and felt her arms wrap around his arm, and let her steady him as he crawled to his (_sigh_) foot.

He leaned on her heavily as she supported him to the living room and the now way-too-familiar coach. He dropped down tiredly, feeling pain shoot through his entire nervous system as he hit the soft cushions. Winry went to get him a pillow to support his head when he stopped her.

"Winry, would you please sit with me?" he asked, sounding as defeated as he had on the first days of his recovery. She replied with a small smile, sitting down, supporting his head on her lap instead like they often did in the evenings.

She realized that they hadn't done it in a while. Not since before Ed became ill. Ed hadn't been himself since and seemed to withdraw from her cuddles. She had missed this so much.

She let his bangs, moist with sweat, run through her fingers, as she leaned down to kiss him.

"I'm sorry, Win," he whispered, as their lips parted.

"What for?" she asked, still not letting her smile waver.

"For being... irrational lately."

She left out a chuckle, though there was no happiness behind it. She did understand, she just wished... that it wasn't so.

"I feel like such a failure right now," he continued.

She let him finish without interruption. This was the most she had gotten out of him in weeks.

"I can hardly do _anything_. I want to finish up the nursery. I want to go out, shopping for baby stuff with you. I want to do the heavy lifting... but, _I can't_."

Tears started to dwell in his eyes, and he wiped them quickly away. She only held his head closer to her chest.

"I- I... I don't know what to do, Winry. I can't let you do everything once the baby comes. I can't just lay on the couch and, and... not even being able to drive you to the hospital when you go into labor. I can't... can't wheel you into the clinic in a wheelchair, 'cause I'll be riding in one myself. It's not how I imagined this. I don't want to walk with a crutch down the altar on our wedding day!"

He let the tears run freely now, hugging her lap as he tried to cover his face, leaving her dress damp with tears.

"God, Winry... I don't think I've ever felt this useless in my life."

"Edward Elric," she stated, the smile returning to her lips. "_I_ am the one who is pregnant. _I_ am the one who is supposed to be a hormonal mess!"

He looked up at her reassuring smile, and she once again bent down and kissed his forehead.

"I don't think there's ever going to be a perfect timing for us, Ed._ That's just not how we do things._"

* * *

I am- currently, in the midst of writing this chapter, as I am writing this A/N. I just want to commend anyone out there living their best life with a handicap, no matter what it is. Everybody is unique in their own way, and I personally, find "imperfection" beautiful. Imperfection is perfection. Because** people** are** beautiful**. I do not want in any way, shape or form, to insult anyone by writing this chapter. I personally think that Edward Elric, faced with a situation like this, going from (somewhat) fully functional, living with automail, to being less functional living without it, would feel like his pride was wounded. I also think that he knows his own strength, even if his mind is a bit clouded at this particular time (and that he probably will find his strength later in the fic... _no spoilers or anything just sayin'_).

I have spent the last five years of my life, working with physically and mentally disabled children and adults (I am sorry if these are not the politically correct terms in English as it is not my first language), and I have absolutely nothing but respect for every single one of them. I **love** and care for them deeply as I follow them in their daily lives, through the good days and the bad days. I have seen the progress, as well as the setbacks. And that's just the way life is. Honestly, I'm honored to be a part of it with them. Whatever I can do to make, not just theirs, but _every single person in my life_'s day, just a little bit better, that's what I **live** for. That's what is important to me.

I also want to add that one of my dearest friend's dad, was in a car accident, losing both of his feet and being confined to a wheelchair. He still is such an amazingly **cool and awesome person and dad,** and I would argue that, even though it's been tough on them at times, he is such a** fun and loving** and completely capable person, living his life with a **huge smile** on his face. The last time I saw him was at a vorspiel(before-party) at their house, where we danced. Me and him. The chicken dance... obviously. Apparently some macarena too (In which case, I have blocked it out of my mind.. but it does maybe probably sound like something that I would do...) And he just proves to me that no matter what life throws at you, in time, you'll just have to learn to deal with it and focus on the** beauty in your life**, as he has done. Wherever you may find it.

**Stay freaking beautiful and awesome!**

-Sandra


	6. Chapter 6

The ground trembled as the train arrived at the small train station, mid-day on a Friday. Few people were getting on, fewer people were getting off. Among the small crowd of people was a blonde head of hair, a black head of hair and another smaller black head of hair. The smaller black head of hair was holding a leach, with a black and white dog who was clearly eager to get outside.

"Maes, please take Hayate over to the grass and let him relieve himself," the blonde woman said with a smile, grabbing her husbands side and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Okay!" the small boy said with a toothless grin and ran with his dog towards a patch of green grass a couple of feet in front of them.

"We should have left the dog with Fury," the man murmured at his wife.

"Nonsense. He's going to love it here," Riza Hawkeye stated as she gazed at the green knolls that raved over the small town that was Resembool.

"Yeah, but the train ride is too long for a dog. I've never been so humiliated in my entire life!" Roy Mustang sneered to his wife, thinking back to when a train conductor scolded him after Hayate's "accident" on the train. ''I don't _ever_ want to pick up poop in front of other people again!"

"General! Colonel!" a cheery voice shouted from a distance. It took a couple of moments for Roy and Riza to recognize the tall, broad-shouldered young man that came jogging towards them.

"Alphonse Elric," Riza stated in awe. "When did you grow so big?"

Al couldn't help but smile proudly of his own stature and met Riza with a hug. He then turned to the General and reached him his hand for a handshake.

Roy appreciated that. He had never been the hugging type. "It's good to see you, young Alphonse."

"You too! It's been a couple of years, huh!"

"_Mom, dad_!" a young boy came running with a dog in a leash towards them. "Hayate's done," he stated. The dog launched itself at Alphonse, and Al happily pets the dog and let it lick his face.

Maes hid behind his father's leg and tugged at his shirt lightly.

"Who's that?" he asked shyly, as Al stood back up.

"Hi, Maes. My name is Alphonse. I met you once before, but you were much smaller. You probably don't even remember." Al's smile was as bright as ever, and the young boy relaxed a little and looked to his parents for reassurance.

"Do you remember that we told you about the young state alchemist and his younger brother in a suit of armor?" Riza gently asked, and received a slight nod in reply.

"Alphonse was the boy in the amour," she explained. Maes' eyes shut opened and looked with admiration on the blonde man in front of him.

"You were in an armor? That's so cool!"

Alphonse scratched the back of his head. It wasn't as cool as it sounded, but he wouldn't shatter the kid's illusion.

Alphonse leads them to the car he had driven to pick them up in. He dreaded the ride. Usually, it was his brother who drove, because Alphonse was a truly awful driver. That was out of the question for the time being though, so the job had landed on Al.

* * *

A wide-eyed kid and two shaky legged adults left the small truck outside the Elric residence. Alphonse stepped out of the driver seat with an apologetic expression on his face, as he saw Riza's hands move from point to point, signing a cross across her chest.

"S-sorry," Al mumbled.

"That... was... _awesome_!" Maes exclaimed excitedly and ran in circles around the lawn while Hayate chased him eagerly.

The door to the small house they had parked outside opened, and Winry came to show on the small front porch, resting her hand on her ever-growing stomach.

"You survived!" she giggled, but with a hint of genuine relief.

Roy shot her a look that did not at all seem amused, while Riza laughed apprehensively. "We've experienced worse..." she tried to shrug it off, but couldn't help herself from adding "under an attack in Ishval", under her breath.

"Please, come in," Winry said, and got out of the way for their guests.

Riza, Maes, and Hayate walked towards her, but Al stopped Roy as he was about to follow.

"General?" he asked silently, and Roy got the hint and stopped.

"How's he doing?" Roy asked, and watched as his wife and child greeted Winry.

"Better, but..." Al exchanged a look with Winry. She nodded and closed the door behind them. "He still beats himself up quite a lot."

The Elric's had planned to invite Mustang and Hawkeye's family over for some time, but after Ed's surgery, Winry decided that it was time. Edward hadn't been doing too good and had lost most of his self-confidence. Both Winry and Al knew that no one could talk sense into Edward as the General could. After the initial shouting and arguing had subsided.

Roy nodded. "Ed has never been good with relying on other people and considering the circumstances... I get it."

"Yeah, I know. But... _Also_ considering the circumstances, he kinda needs to snap out of it! He needs to understand that he's going to be an amazing father with or without automail!"

"_Amazing_ is kind of an overstatement, don't you think-"

"_Not_ helping, General!"

"Maes! My man, you've grown so big!" Al and Roy heard Ed's voice say as they entered the hallway.

"Are _you_ the Fullmetal Alchemist?" the young boys asked.

"Sure am!"

"But you're so littl-"

"No!" four adult's yelled in unison before all hell could break loose.

* * *

Winry, Riza, and Alfonse cleaned up after dinner. Roy and Edward were still seated at the table in a heated discussion about alchemy. Alphonse had a couple of points he wanted to state as well, but hearing the state alchemist and the ex-state alchemist's shouting-match had made him decide to butt-out.

He couldn't help but smile though, because he couldn't remember his brother being this passionate about anything for the last couple of months.

Edward slammed his left fist into the table, while his right prosthetic arm hung loosely at his side. It was mostly for aesthetic reasons since he still wasn't cleared for automail (_and there was no guarantee that he would ever be_).

"That's the _stupidest_ thing I've heard you say since you claimed that-"

"Boys!" Riza intervened sharply and they both flinched as a very familiar clicking noise came from her belt. "How 'bout we tone it down?"

"Yes, ma'am," Ed obliged while Roy raised his hands in surrender.

Her stern look softened into a warm smile. "Good, now, Roy; won't you start getting Maes off to bed, and Ed, you can..." she all of a sudden hesitated. She realized she had no idea what he actually could do. He had a limp prosthetic arm at his side and no left leg.

The tension seemed to grow, so Roy decided that it _was_, in fact, getting late and that he _should_ indeed get his son off to bed and left the kitchen abruptly. Ed sat and waited expectantly at her orders with no emotion on his face. He was all too used to this.

"Ed can get ready for the boys to go out," Winry shot in. Ed arched his eyebrows at that and turned to face her.

"Out?" he asked dumbfounded.

"Yes. Alphonse, the General and yourself are going to the bar tonight," she simply stated.

"_What_? When did we decide that?" he protested. His challenging stare at Riza, already forgotten.

"_We_ didn't decide anything. _I_ did."

"Oh, that sounds like fun!" Al turned around eagerly to face his brother. "Let's go! Please?"

Ed watched Al's pleading eyes with puffed cheeks and left out a sigh in defeat. He could never say no to that stupid face.

"Fine..."

"Thank you, brother! It's been so long since we've gone anywhere!"

He only got a sneer in reply.

* * *

"Sooo..." Al cleared his throat. "This is fun." His stiff smile went unanswered by his less-then-compliant company.

Roy and Edward were both frowning, looking in opposite directions with their half empty drinks. Al huffed and sunk back in his chair. The bar was pretty full, it was Friday night after all.

A short waitress came by their table, smiling happily at Alphonse while asking if they had everything they needed. Alphonse thanked her politely and informed her that they were alright at the moment.

Both Roy and Ed turned their heads towards the interaction, before locking eyes and smirking slyly.

The waitress walked off, swaying her hips exaggeratedly. Al slowly turned his attention back to his bickering party but was caught off guard by their amused grins.

"W-what?" he asked in confusion.

"She's pretty," Roy answered. Ed nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I think we went to school with her. She's only a year younger than you."

Al blushed violently.

Luckily, this lightened the mood, now that the two former co-workers could gang up on an ever growingly embarrassed Al. It wasn't long before the three men at the table were discussing anything from military business and alchemy to living with their fisty significant others.

"You think Winry's mood swings are bad? Try living with a pregnant Hawkeye! That gun hasn't seen more action since, _hick_, Ishval!"

"Have you_ tried_ Winry's wrench?"

Al made a mental note that an innocent waitress didn't sound half bad after all, though he already had his mind set on a short, cute Xingese girl._ With the weirdest cat, he had ever seen in his life._

Mustang scoffed at this. He knew he loved Riza more than life itself, but he_ clearly_ had it worse. At the other end of the table, Ed was thinking the exact same thing about his Winry. Al had already accepted that the two of them were far too similar to avoid some scuffling whenever they were in the same room and had braced himself for this. What mattered was that his brother acted like himself again.

At some point during their evening, eyes were getting unfocused and words started to slur. In one moment Edward and Roy were hating each other, and in the other, they were on the brig of a budding bromance.

Al held tightly on to his beer while rubbing his face to stay awake.

"Jeezes, Fullmetal. You're drunk, buddy boy. Guess a body your_ size_ can't hold too much," Mustang chuckled smugly, completely oblivious to his own frequent hick-ups and shuffling letters.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO DRUNK THAT... no, wait. That's not right." Edward sighed and rested his head on the table.

The bartender called closing-time and the men started to get up. All except for Ed, who had clearly fallen asleep at the table.

Roy and Alphonse exchanged looks.

"You have a sharpy?" Roy smiled but ended up disappointed as he received a shrug from Alphonse.

Something tugged at Alphonse back pocket and he turned around to see their waitress walk past him. Reaching into his pocket, he found a small note with numbers written on it.

"_Is this the bill_?" he exclaimed and looked to Roy in shock. Roy rolled his eyes at him and muttered something that sounded like "_thank God you're pretty,_" before reaching out for Ed's right arm to help him stand.

Roy had in his buzz, forgotten about the fact that Ed didn't have his automail arm and the sleeping body of the small ex-alchemist dropped to the ground, leaving a mortified Roy with a detached right arm in his grasp.

He shrieked at the realization and jumped a little, before it slowly dawned upon him, that even if he technically _had_ just ripped Ed's arm off- it wasn't as bad as it looked.

Ed didn't stir at the commotion at all and curled happily on the floor. Alphonse who had finally understood that the note in his hand was a phone number, tucked it neatly back in his pocket, before getting his brother's left hand over his own shoulders and steadying him out of the bar.

* * *

Riza, Winry and Granny Pinako were still up when they got back. They were sitting on the front porch, playing a game of cards when the cheerful chatter from the stumbling men came closer.

"He-ey" Roy sung, waving a disconnected wooden arm at them. A little behind came Alphonse with a sleeping Ed slumped on his back.

Riza looked concerned at the spectacle, but Winry shook her head with a faint smile.

"What happened?" Riza asked as her husband came to show in the outdoor lights. He was in the midst of scratching his back with the arm.

"This's a handy little thing you know... hah_, handy_," he sniggered, finally meeting the sharp and disapproving gaze of The Hawk.

He cleared his voice. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that," he mumbled, looking at the arm and handing it to Winry. She didn't take it. Smiling at him, she got up and moved to the door.

"I'm going to bed. Good night guys," she simply said, leaving them outside.

* * *

The next morning Roy woke with a loud yelp as he realized that it was _not _his wife's arm he was snuggling to.

* * *

**This chapter became a little silly... Oh well! Hope you all enjoyed it! **


End file.
